


It's about the small, soft moments

by hopelessly_me



Category: Marvel
Genre: Clint is dying from cuteness overload, Confused Clint, Demisexual Bucky, Fluff, M/M, Natasha Is a Good Bro, New Relationship, Soft Bucky, hand holding, soft Clint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:21:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24744514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopelessly_me/pseuds/hopelessly_me
Summary: Clint knew dating Bucky meant he was going to be taking things slow, even if he wasn't exactly sure what all that meant. He is pretty sure all the soft, sweet moments are slowly killing him, and he doesn't want it to stop.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton
Comments: 32
Kudos: 140





	It's about the small, soft moments

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GreyishBlue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyishBlue/gifts).



> Thanks Bobbi for poking me with this cute plotbunny, and helping me with it. And thanks to the server for helping flesh this out a bit. It was so cute I couldn't resist adopting this one.

“Hey.” Clint turned enough to watch Bucky stroll across the rooftop, holding something all wrapped up in foil, Clint thought it had to be a burrito. Clint nodded in greeting and turned his head back to look out over the city. “You alright?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” Clint asked. He held back a groan when Bucky sat down to join him, although he didn’t swing his legs around for them to dangle off the roof like Clint had.

“Well, you took a pretty hard hit today,” Bucky pointed out. “And then Steve was kind of a dick to you when we were coming back.” Clint snorted, his whole body moving with the noise. “And now instead of being at the wind down party, you’re up here avoiding everyone. It’s not your typical pattern.”

“Watching me for my patterns, huh?” Clint asked before he turned his head to watch Bucky unwrap the burrito; he hadn’t been hungry until the scent wafted into his nose. “Just decompressing on my own a little I guess,” he answered.

“If it’s something Steve said, I’ll kick his ass for you,” Bucky offered.

“I’ll kick his ass by myself, thank you,” Clint replied, talking himself up. He was good at that at times, especially when he wanted to keep his feelings to himself; he could pretend to be overly confident, throw on a smile.

“Yeah, but you don’t have to do it alone,” Bucky answered before he held out the burrito. “All your favorites wrapped into one shell. You know you want it.”

Clint stared at Bucky before his eyes drifted down to the burrito. He tried to decide if Bucky was pranking him, or if it was genuine. Bucky and Clint rarely hung out together. Bucky was still quiet most of the time and was reserved. And Clint- Clint knew he was loud, could see the way Bucky tended to pull back a little. Clint will never forget the time he’d accidentally run into Bucky and Bucky jumped away from the touch, eyes wide, before he tucked tail and left the communal floor, leaving Clint to stand stunned in his spot. It was hard not to take that personally.

With a sigh, Clint took it. “Thanks,” he mumbled, unwrapping it further. He took the first bite and thought he was going to melt right off the roof. Bucky wasn’t wrong, it was stuffed full of everything he liked. Chicken, steak, more cheese than a normal person should ever have in one sitting, three different types of salsas making it just the right level of spicy, and black beans. He did his best not to shove it all in his mouth.

“Clint?” Clint looked over at Bucky, his eyes on the ground. He looked determined, even if his face was turning about as red as the tomatoes in his burrito. “I think we should go on a date sometime.”

That was something Clint hadn’t been expecting. He slowed his chewing for a moment before he swallowed. “You want to go on a date with me?” Clint asked.

“I know I’m not really your type,” Bucky muttered.

“You aren’t?”

Bucky shrugged before he shook his head. “And I can’t really… give you everything you’re probably used to,” Bucky continued. “But I would like it if maybe you would consider going on a date with me.” He finally looked up and gave Clint a pained smile.

Clint set his arms on his thighs, trying to think. “What do you mean you can’t give me everything I am used to?”

“Sex,” Bucky said slowly. “I just… I can’t. Not yet... and I’m not sure how to explain it but I’m-”

“Demi,” Clint said with a shrug. Bucky looked in awe before Clint sat back up and slowly turned, putting his feet on the roof. “Natasha. She’s aro. So she went through and explained that whole spectrum of the community to me. Can’t pretend I completely understand it, but I can say that I support it.” He gave Bucky a smile, something he hadn’t done all day. “But why the hell me?”

“Why the hell not you?” Bucky asked before he got up. “Think about it, let me know. I’ll see you around, Clint.”

Clint watched Bucky go before he looked back down at his burrito. All of his favorites, wrapped up carefully before he came to make sure that Clint was alright. It was weird- he was used to Natasha being the only one who cared on a level more than basic friendship. But something about the whole thing made his heart feel a little lighter, and his head stopped racing with all the things he’d done wrong because obviously, somehow, somewhere along the line- Clint managed to do something right.

It wasn’t a normal relationship to Clint by any means. Clint was used to finding dates at a bar, or through apps. He was used to one-night stands, sometimes relationships lasting a week or two, maybe even a month, before everything fizzled away. Passionate, dirty, quick- those relationships made sense because Clint didn’t have to give up much of himself for it. He wouldn’t be expected to tell them anything about himself deeper than face value, didn’t have to worry about not coming home to someone, or having to run out on them the next time some villain in a gaudy suit thought it was a good time to try to take over the world.

This relationship with Bucky was a whole new ball game and Clint was pretty sure Bucky was trying to kill him, and not in the “you’ve pissed me off so I’m going to stab you” kind of way. The relationship was almost sickeningly sweet at times and Clint didn’t know what to do with it. Never in all thirty-three years of his life had he had someone so attentive as Bucky. He picked up on Clint’s moods and responded to them like it was a piece of cake. The way he watched Clint as he talked about absolutely nothing made Clint feel a level of comfort he didn’t around most people.

The first time Clint was certain he was going to die was after a night at some coffeehouse Steve had told them about, three weeks into their relationship. The coffeehouse was known for music, but they also held live poetry readings twice a month. Bucky had glanced over at Clint, and despite it not being Clint’s scene, he knew he was going to have to go. It wasn’t as bad as Clint thought, but he was so wrapped up in watching Bucky that he didn’t really hear the poetry. Bucky watched everyone as they read their work, showing them just as much attentiveness as he showed Clint almost daily. The little ways Bucky would react to the words as he soaked them in, the way his face changed throughout the pieces, was worth studying. If it was going to be a constant with Bucky, Clint could picture coming to these events more often.

It was closing in on the last three sets of the night and both of them had switched to water instead of coffee. Clint looked down at the table where his hand was resting, taken by surprise. Bucky had slid his hand across the way, his fingers barely brushing over Clint’s. Clint’s body felt warmer in that moment and he looked up at Bucky who smiled at him in a shy sort of way before he turned his attention back to the stage, but his fingers remained. Clint didn’t dare move a muscle, trying to commit the feeling into his memory.

When the acts were finished, they bundled up to head home. Clint tucked his scarf into his jacket before he relaxed his arms. Something brushed against his hand and he looked down to see Bucky’s pinkie wrapping around his own. Clint looked back up at Bucky in awe.

“This okay?” Bucky asked, his face turning red, although he could easily have blamed it on the cool, late fall air.

“Yeah, it’s okay,” Clint answered, barely able to keep his voice quiet and even. Clint gave him a reassuring smile and looked away. He was surprised he could keep his cool with how hard his heart was beating.

The occurrences only became more frequent after that moment, and each time Clint was pretty sure he was having mini-heart attacks. It wasn’t every time they hung out, but Bucky slowly became more bold. And somehow that boldness was making Clint come a little more undone every time.

By their third month in, Bucky was reaching out to hold Clint’s hand more often than not, and Clint never knew such a small gesture could make him feel like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Slowly, it became tangled hands, tangled arms, and Bucky would have his shoulder pressed against Clint’s arm as they walked. Anytime Bucky would squeeze Clint’s hand, Clint wasn’t sure he would quite figure out how to let go because he craved more of the action.

One time they were waiting in line to get into the theater and Bucky had laid his head down on Clint’s shoulder, and Clint wasn’t sure why his stomach was flipping and fluttering, acting like he was twelve all over again, staying up late and sneaking kisses behind the big tent. That time he forced himself to stare straight ahead, although all he really wanted to do was shove his nose into Bucky’s hair and kiss the top of his head.

Clint couldn’t figure out how they even got here, or why Bucky was still sticking around. He was positive that by now Bucky would have grown tired of Clint’s antics, between the under caffeinated side of him and the overly stimulated, how forgetful he could be, or anything really. Sometimes Clint would push his boundaries just a little, just to test Bucky’s patience, maybe being extra loud and obnoxious during training, or picking food up straight from Bucky’s plate. There was the one time that Clint leaned over and ate a fry that had been in Bucky’s hand. And through it all, Bucky stayed. He would roll his eyes, he would shove Clint with a laugh, or sometimes snark at him to quit his shit, but Bucky stayed- and for the life of him, Clint couldn’t figure out why.

It wasn’t until their four month anniversary (not that Clint was actually, consciously keeping track or anything), that Clint finally hit his limit. Every little thing had kept building to this point, and it rattled Clint just enough to make his brain sputter. He felt like he needed someone, anyone, to help him figure out what the hell he was doing. So Clint went to the only person he thought he could talk to, even though he knew it came with a certain degree of embarrassment and torture.

Clint exited off of the elevator to Natasha’s floor, promptly walked over to her couch and collapsed down on it, catching the nail polish bottle mid-air when it sprang off the couch. Natasha watched the whole thing in silence, one foot pulled up as if she just got done painting her nails. Clint made sure the cap was screwed on and laid the bottle on his chest.

“Natasha- I need help,” Clint said with a sigh, trying to contain in the panic he was feeling.

“You are going to need even more help if you manage to ruin my polish,” Natasha said, sounding unamused. “Help with what?”

“Barnes.”

“Barnes.” Clint glanced at Natasha, who only stared back. “Need more than that, Clint. Help with what? Hiding his body?”

“What? No! Why would I need to kill him and hide his body?” Natasha only shrugged and cleaned up her mess. “No, it’s just… I don’t know what to do.” Clint groaned and slumped more into the couch. “He does this thing now. Has been doing it more and more. We hold hands… a lot. And he likes to squeeze them, or kinda do this weird thing with his thumb that rubs at the one scar that aches a lot. And I can’t remember if I told him about that scar or if he is a creepy psychic or something. But he does it.” Natasha nodded, although she looked thoroughly confused. “And tonight he just… he uh-” Clint knew his face was heating up and he wanted to desperately shove the feeling back deep, deep inside because he should  _ not  _ be this worked up over something so small yet so significant. “Tonight when we got home he leaned up, put a hand against my chest, and he kissed me. Kissed me and then kissed my forehead before he left.”

Natasha was silent for all of five seconds before she burst out laughing. And while it was rare that Clint could pull this exact laugh from Natasha, where she would double over and her eyes would crickle up more than normal, it didn’t mean he liked it when it came at his expense. He reached up and rubbed his ears, feeling more self-conscious than a man his age should, and was regretting this life choice.

“What did you say?” Natasha asked when she finally got a deep enough breath.

“Uh… I think I said thank you,” Clint answered and Natasha started crying, she was laughing so hard. “This isn’t funny Natasha! I don’t know what I’m supposed to do here!”

“What do you mean, you don’t know what to do here?” Natasha asked, wiping her face. “Clint, honey, you have been in relationships before.”

“Not like this!” Clint protested. “Bucky and I, we haven’t even-” Clint felt the word catch in his throat and he swallowed back the feeling. “He isn’t like any of my past relationships. We haven’t- it doesn’t-”

“Oh my God, Clint, just say it,” Natasha said. “Say you haven’t had sex and get it over with.”

“We haven’t had sex, alright?” Clint groaned. “We haven’t had sex and I am sitting here freaking out because the guy kissed me.  _ Kissed me _ , Nat! And it’s weird, alright? I’m used to usually the kissing being the first step, then bed, then  _ maybe _ the feelings after that before the fall out. And this isn’t that at all and I don’t know what- or why- my brain is being all… it’s like I’m a freakin’ kid again. All worked up because I got to first base.”

Natasha’s face smoothed out, and she reached out, touching Clint’s jaw. “Clint, honey, this is what relationships are like for some people,” she said slowly. “You know that it’s not all rushing off to bed and making out all night.” Clint was silent on the matter. “Barton!”

“No, I know. Of course I know!” Natasha narrowed her eyes at Clint. “Look, I don’t do romance and all that. That never worked for me before. And don’t judge me just because I’m quick on the draw when it comes to my sex life. It’s just that… these things? The thing where people want to be with me long term? It doesn’t happen to me. Never does, never will-”

“It’s happening to you right now,” Natasha pointed out gently. “I understand this is new ground for you, that you aren’t used to taking things slow. And I think maybe you are overthinking the whole thing.”

“I don’t want to screw this up,” Clint groaned before he covered his face for a moment then dragged his fingers over his face. “I don’t want to read into any of it wrong and make him run away or make him feel pressured that he needs to do something that he isn’t comfortable doing. And it sounds stupid, but I really like this one, Nat. I like how he makes me feel, and I like all the things we go out and do. And I just don’t want to Barton it up.”

Clint finally looked over at Natasha, who had a gentle smile on her face. She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “I like this side of you,” she commented. “I like this side of you that has someone who values you and you are afraid to let something like that go. And I think this relationship is good for you. I think it will help show you that you have more value than what’s at face value. It forces you to slow down, learn to open up and trust more people. It’s not all about racing to bed and screwing each other into stupidity. It’s about the small, soft moments, the small intimate things before it goes to the big, intimate things.”

“I am going to screw this up,” Clint mumbled.

“Good thing you have someone patient like Bucky to help you through it,” Natasha said, rubbing Clint’s arm. “Just talk to Bucky about it. Tell him how you feel, ask him where you both stand. Ask what’s okay to do, what’s not, and everything will be fine.” Natasha was quiet for a moment. “Bucky seems happier than ever before. You are doing something right, Clint. You heard his terms, you respected his boundaries. You know how hard that is to come by?”

“It shouldn’t be,” Clint mumbled.

“Well, it is, especially in a world that seems sex obsessed,” Natasha replied, patting his knee. “You are in your first solid, healthy relationship since Bobbi. This is a good thing, Clint. Tomorrow, go talk to Bucky, no matter how uncomfortable the thought of it is. I think you’ll feel much better if you do.”

“This is ridiculous,” Clint muttered as he paced his apartment, Lucky watching him the whole time. “It’s Bucky. The guy I am dating. He hasn’t broken up with me yet so I have to be doing something right. Right, bud?” Lucky barked just then so Clint took that as his agreement. “So why the hell am I nervous to talk to him about this?”

It was the right, mature, adult thing to do. Clint logically knew that Bucky would be understanding, and that Clint could probably ask him just about any off the wall question and Bucky would patiently answer it. None of that reassurance prevented Clint’s stomach from knotting up at the aspect that maybe this could go horribly wrong.

“Lucky… just kill me, okay?” Clint requested, sitting on the couch and pulling his dog closer. “Just… rip my face off.” Lucky put his paws up on the couch and licked Clint’s face about three times. “Good boy,” Clint said with a smile, burying his face into Lucky’s scruff. “Alright boy. Time for my to pull my big boy pants on and go have an adult discussion that doesn’t involve drinking and ending up in make up sex. Wish me luck.” Lucky barked and ran to the door.

All it took was one question and the AI system moved Clint to the communal floor, which had it’s pros and cons really. At least in a common space if things went south the both of them would keep their cool in case anyone could hear or watch them. It was common ground, no one’s apartment. Easy enough to exit, or throw himself out the window if Clint became particularly anxious. He was pretty sure he had a grappling hook arrowhead in his pants- he always carried one. The con was, well, other people walking in on their conversation.

Clint walked off the elevator. Bucky was the only one on the floor, sitting on the couch reading. He looked over and gave Clint a big smile. “Hey you,” he greeted, drawing it out.

“Hey, hi, uh, can we… maybe talk?” Clint asked, and he cursed himself for how it came out. “It’s nothing bad. It’s just… we should talk. I’ve got about a million questions? Well, one but we know-”

“How you ramble when nervous?” Bucky asked and Clint zipped his lips so fast. “Yeah, we both know about that. Yeah, sure, we can talk. Here?”

“I mean, here works,” Clint answered, shuffling over at a slow pace. “This relationship- it’s good right? I mean, it’s working for us. Right?”

Bucky closed his book and set it off to the side. “It’s working for me. Is it not working for you?”

“No!” Clint nearly shouted as he rushed to get the word out. Bucky looked completely surprised. “No, I mean, it’s working. It’s great. I’m going to… I’m gonna sit.” Bucky nodded slowly, though he was beginning to smile again, which was not helping Clint’s head, or chest. Clint sat down and tucked a leg under him, rubbing his thighs. “It’s just that this whole thing is new territory for me. I don’t really, uh, do this kinda… relationship.”

“So I have been told.” Bucky actually had a hint of a smirk on his face now.

“Don’t listen to Steve. Steve is terrible. Natasha too. In fact, don’t listen to anyone,” Clint suggested. Clint was beginning to regret not taking this conversation somewhere more private, just in case someone walked in. Or if Tony decided to snoop through the footage.

“Clint?” Clint held his breath, biting down on his lip. “If I wasn’t comfortable with this, I would let you know, if that is what you are getting at. I know you have a huge heart, and I know that you tend to go off the deep end before you have a chance to test the waters.” Clint felt himself relax a little more and he looked down at his lap. “What do you need from me? Because you have been giving up a lot for-”

“I’m really not,” Clint interrupted. He glanced up through his lashes at Bucky before he looked back down, playing with the hem of his jeans, pulling at the frayed ends. “It’s not particularly hard to take things slow with you, you know? You make it worth it. You are worth it.”

And Bucky was worth it. Every time Bucky took the chance to hold Clint’s hand, every time he would get a big smile on his face and laugh, or would just look at him like Clint was one of the best things Bucky had ever seen- all of it made it worth it to Clint. Just seeing Bucky  _ happy _ made everything worth it to Clint. There was almost nothing Clint wouldn’t do to see that smile, to have Bucky show him in the little ways how much he cared. It was the strangest addiction but Clint wasn’t willing to give it up for the world.

“Clint?” Clint looked up and gave him a barely there smile. “What did you really want to ask?”

“The kiss… is that something we can do now?” Clint asked.

“You always could have done it,” Bucky snorted.

Clint’s jaw almost hit the floor. “Wait! Wait a second! You mean I could have always kissed you and you would have been totally cool with it?” Bucky nodded, sucking his bottom lip in and trying not to laugh. “Well what the hell, Barnes? Why didn’t you tell me what part? What took you so long?”

“Me?” Bucky asked, laughing. “I was the one who did it first. I was the one who did any and all of it first. What is taking  _ you _ so long?”

“I didn’t know I could! You know how many times I wanted to-” Clint stopped himself. “What, what is that look for?” 

Bucky almost looked too pleased with himself. When called out, he started to flush and looked down. “You were really scared of doing something dumb, weren’t you?” he asked.

“Have you  _ met _ me?” Clint asked, waving his arms. “I am almost in a constant state of dumb!” Bucky gave him a sharp, pointed look, and Clint nervously laughed. “Erm, I mean, I know I’m not dumb, not even close, not by a mile, but uh- I-” Bucky started to laugh again. “Okay look! So apparently when it comes to  _ this _ I am really dumb. Can we at least agree to that?”

“Not really, sunshine,” Bucky said before he leaned over. He kissed Clint’s cheek and settled in against him. “I think it is honestly the sweetest thing you could have done. You have been sitting, waiting for me to call the shots. I wouldn’t call it dumb. I call it… caring? Or respectful?”

“I like my version better,” Clint grumbled.

“Whatever makes you feel better,” Bucky teased. “Do you at least feel better?” he asked. “You looked like you were about to jump off the roof when you walked in.”

“I was going with the window to be honest,” Clint admitted before he put an arm around Bucky’s shoulders. Bucky leaned into Clint more, almost turning to sit more on one hip, and he wrapped an arm around Clint’s midriff. “I do feel better. A lot better. It’s just- this is new and I might ask a lot of questions to make sure I’m doing all of this right. So don’t get all weirded out if I need some reassurance from time to time, I guess is what I’m saying.”

“I’d rather you do that and feel comfortable than question yourself and get nervous about it,” Bucky assured him. “So- did Natasha put you up to talking to me about it?”

“Did she tell you, or are you guessing?” Clint asked with a sheepish grin.

Bucky laughed,the last bit of nervousness left Clint and his heart felt light. “Guess that answers that question,” he commented. “Hey, want to watch some television? Maybe order a pizza?”

“I’ve got no where better to be,” Clint answered. “What do you want to watch?”

“You pick it,” Bucky answered.

“Yeah, right,” Clint snorted. “You like Sci-fi, so let’s see. Oh, there is one I bet you’ll love. It’s all sciencey and nerdy. Doctor Who.”

“Who?”

Clint opened his mouth then closed it, putting it on pause. “I… can’t tell if you are seriously asking me… or just screwing with me right now.” Bucky looked up with a smile and tapped the tip of Clint’s nose. “Yeah, you damn troll.” Bucky laughed and settled in. “Alright, Doctor Who marathon with pizza. Gonna be a good night, Barnes. Just got that feeling.”

“I’m sure you do, Barton,” Bucky answered.

Clint took care of it, asking the AI to order their normal pizza before he requested for Doctor Who to come on. He opted for the newest version, mostly because he wasn’t sure he could watch old Sci-fi. It was a good night. They ate way too much food, talked a little bit, but largely they watched the television show. After food, Bucky made himself comfortable again, cuddled against Clint as they watched the show. Clint was going to have to send Natasha flowers or something as a thank you- not saying it was going to be a lot easier because then he wouldn’t have to see her give him the “I told you so” look.

Clint had lost track of time, and episodes. All he knew was that it had to be late because even he was tired, but he wasn’t ready to voice it when he felt warm with Bucky tucked all up against him. He cared less about the show, and more about the feeling of happiness swelling in his chest. Nothing could ever compare to knowing he had done everything right so far, or as close to right as he could. It felt good knowing that he had made it so Bucky felt comfortable enough to be around him, when Clint never thought he would be.

“Hey,” Clint said before he looked down and his eyes widened. Bucky at some point had fallen asleep, his face pressed into Clint’s chest with an arm wrapped around Clint, keeping him close.

Clint didn’t know what exactly broke within him that made him cry. Maybe it was the sweetness of it all, or maybe it was the simple fact that Bucky trusted him enough to fall asleep tucked against him like Clint mattered, but Clint was both in awe and elated. He tried his best not to move a muscle, too afraid to wake Bucky up and have this moment not last for however long he could. He didn’t care what way this relationship went- he was going to fight to keep it.


End file.
